


When Dark Unfolds Its Wings

by gatergirl79



Series: The Sabriel Saga [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Season 9 Coda (kinda), Tags May Change, Temporary Amnesia, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-08-26 00:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16671112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatergirl79/pseuds/gatergirl79
Summary: In the wake of the fall, Alfie finds himself powerless, meanwhile, Sam is haunted by the feeling he’s forgotten something very important.





	1. A Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been awhile I know but I'm finally back with the next instalment of Sabriel Saga (Previously known as Unrequited Sabriel.) We're heading into season 9, so be prepared for angst, hurt, and canonical character deaths. Once again I'm going to try to stick as close as possible to the canon, so that this story feels more like a coda than an AU. Usually I write these stories from a single point of view, Sam or Gabriel's. This time around, it'll be a multi POV, because I don't have enough to writer three or four separate stories. So enjoy.

It happened so suddenly, there was no way for Alfie to prepare for it. One second he was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, as sleep kept its distance, then the next there was a wave of pain and the sound of loud fearful screams ripping through his head.

It was deafening in its intensity, and he felt his eyes beginning to water. The room felt as though it was spinning and he struggled to climb out of the bed and over to the window, his legs like Jell-O beneath the weight of his body.

With shaky hands, he yanked open the curtains and stared up at the night sky, eyes widening in horror. Expectedly, he wasn’t the only one watching the light show, but while the casual observer in the street below was seeing shooting stars, Alfie knew the truth. The balls of fire careering through the starry sky were in fact his kin. He could hear their desperate screams as clearly as he could hear his own heartbeat.

Bile rose up in his throat, and his already unsteady frame gave way, sending him hard into the carpet, his hands clasped firmly over his ears, in a foolish attempt to block out the sound, only for it to become louder with the lack of earthly distractions.

“Alfie? Alfie?”

Someone was yelling, at _him,_ he realised and a cold sweat broke out, coating his body. A hand touched his shoulder and he instinctively flinched away. The coppery taste in his mouth grew stronger by the second, causing him to gag, the muscles of his stomach tightening in preparation while the voices in his head grew louder and more desperate, wave after wave of fury crashing into him, the need for revenge heightening the bitter taste in his mouth.

Then suddenly a blanket of silence fell over him.

 

___(*_*)___

 

“You’re dying Sam.” Dean announced flatly, and he couldn’t help but scoff.

Sure he felt tired and drained, but he’d just had some pretty intense mojo rippling through his body, it was expected. But dying? “Shut up.” He muttered, shaking his head, smirking dismissively.

Dean glanced at him, browns pinched seriously, “Just because you’re dying, doesn’t mean you’re dead. Not yet, okay? I mean, we’ve jimmied ourselves out of worse. – We’re gonna fight this.”

Sam frowned, his eyes burning into his brother’s profile, as his heart began to beat a little faster. It couldn’t be true, Dean was just being a jerk, trying to mess with him.

“I’ve got a plan,” Dean insisted, looking away from the highway to fix his gaze on Sam, “you just got to hang on, you hear me?”

Smirking to himself, Sam decided to just play along, until his brother got tired of his asshole prank. “Absolutely.”

Dean stared at him for a long moment, causing Sam to shoot him an unimpressed bitch-face., “You think I’m lying?” Dean muttered.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Hey, you understand that we’re not really in this car right now? We’re in your head. You’re in a coma and _are_ dying.”

Sam sighed, turning away. He wasn’t in the mood for Dean’s ridiculous jokes. He just wanted to sleep for a few hours and then get back to work.

Turning his head, he stared out the passenger window, brows slowly knitting together into a deep frown. They’d been driving for hours, the sun should have been coming up by now. He looked down at his watch, to find it had stopped. A wave of panic flooded into his body and he swallowed thickly, heart practically hammering its way free of his chest. Slowly he turned fearful eyes on his brother, “How do you know that?”

“Because I’m you. And you’re you. _All_ of this is you, we’re in your head.” The world seemed to tilt on its axis.

“You’re serious?” When Dean didn’t call psych, like Sam so desperately wanted him to, all the air fled Sam’s lungs and he crumpled in on himself a little. He could feel his hands beginning to shake, “The whole reason I stopped doing the trials was not to die.” He muttered, staring at his hands, throat tightening around the words.

“And the next time we see Naomi, or Metatron, or whoever’s to blame for this, we will get some justice.”

Sam let his head lull back on the head rest, closing his eyes against the tears welling up. Was anyone to blame, really? Other than himself. He’d insisted on doing the trials, not to save the world, not because it was the right thing to do. He did it for Alfie. So his son would be able to have the normal life he’d been denied. If there were no demons walking the earth, then the angels would be able to lock themselves back behind the pearly gates, and Alfie wouldn’t spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.

“But for right now, we got to fight this, man.” Dean added determinedly.

“Okay. Alright, what’s the plan?” He’d fight. He had to fight. He had to get back to Alfie. If the angels had fallen, his son was in more danger than ever.

“I’m working on it.”

Sam stared at his brother in horror, “What does that mean? I’m kind of dying here, apparently.”

“It means I’m working on it, alright!” Dean snapped loudly.

 

___(*_*)___

 

_The pain tore through his whole body, tugging at the very center of his being. He tried to pull away from it, tried to twist himself free but he couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. The pain wasn’t solely coming from the woman in front of him, her cold detached manner making him feel sick and scared, but also from within him, like gears grinding together. A blistering heat that couldn’t’ quiet find its way to the surface._

_Alfie knew what it was, and why it burnt so badly, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to release it, he did. If only to stop the pain, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how._

_A burning heat seared through his head, radiating out from his eyes and he let out an agonising scream, tears rolling down his cheeks._

_The last thing he thought was how much he wished his father was there to save him._

The voice was weak and distant, but too familiar to ignore. Turning from the darkness, Alfie focused on the sound, allowing it to draw him away from his nightmarish past.

_“The deal is this. Linwood memorial hospital. Randolph, New York. The first one who can help me gets my help in return.”_

Alfie’s heart raced, the fear and desperation in his uncle’s voice was clear as a bell, and it left a hole in Alfie’s gut. There was only one reason Dean would sound that way. One person that could have him resorting to prayer.

“Dad?” Alfie whispered, eyes fluttering open.

“Honey?” Katherine whispered softly, her fingers carding through his sweat dampened hair.

“Dad’s….” He cleared his throat, swallowing against the dryness. The rim of a glass was pressed against his lips and he strained to gulp down the cool water.

After a few swallows, Alfie pushed his mother’s hand away, and looked up into her worried blue eyes. “I - I n-need to get to New York.” He croaked out.

“What? Why?” Katherine frowned, setting the glass back down on the nightstand. “What’s in New York?”

“Dad.” Alfie breathed, “Something is wrong with Sam, I heard Dean praying for help. I have to go.” He tried to sit up, only for the world to spin around him once more, and he fell back against the pillow.

“You’re in no state to go anywhere.” Katherine argued.

“He needs me.” Alfie insisted brokenly. “Dean’s prayed for help, he has no idea what he’s doing.” Panic quickly built inside, causing his heart to race out of control, “They’re angry. They think Castiel caused the fall.” He rubbed at his temples, the high pitched screams still resounding in his mind. “They know he’ll return to Dean.” With a fresh burst of energy, powered by fear, Alfie shoved himself up, ignoring the dizziness. He had to get to his father, had to protect his family. “I can’t lose another parent.” He whispered to himself. Though by the way Katherine’s hand squeezed his shoulder, she’d heard him.

“I’ll get the car.” Katherine sighed, resigned to the inevitable.

Alfie shook his head, insistently regretting it. “It’ll take too long.” He pushed himself to his feet and felt the earth move beneath him. “I have no choice.”

Katherine’s hand snapped out, tightening around her son’s arm. “You can’t. You’re in no fit state. Besides, it’ll draw attention.” She argued.

“I have to go.” Alfie groaned desperately.

With a long sigh, Katherine shook her head, “If you’re going to fly, we go by plane.” When Alfie opened his mouth to argue, she held up a hand. “It’s an order, Alfie. You’re not yourself, and with everything going on,” she inhaled deeply, “You don’t want to lose Sam, well, _I_ can’t lose you.” Tears blossomed in her eyes. “Not again.”

Watching a tear roll down Katherine’s cheek, Alfie felt his heart break with a fresh wave of guilt. He’d put her through so much when he’d vanished. Even though it wasn’t his fault, it didn’t mean he felt any better about putting her through that pain and worry. “Okay.” He sighed, lowering himself back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Good. I’ll get dressed.” With that Katherine hurriedly left the room.

Closing his eyes for a second, Alfie allowed his mind to drift to the last time he’d spoken to his father, and prayed it wouldn’t be the final time.

 

___(*_*)___

 

Sam watched the dark highway rolling past, the tremor in his hands subsiding as he slowly accepted his fate. “The thing is,” he said quietly, “If I am dying, and I believe you, I do,” He sighed, looking to the illusion of his brother, “but if you’re you, but you’re really me and…you’re the part of me that wants to fight to live…” He stammered, his mind twisting to understand and make sense of everything.

“Yes.” Dean replied, nodding. “I have no idea what you just said, but continue.”

Sam frowned. “But if…you don’t have any idea how I’m supposed to fight, then am I supposed to be fighting at all?” he asked.

It had been rolling around in his head for the last few minutes. He’d been living on borrowed time for years now anyway. He shouldn’t even be here. Perhaps Death had finally had enough of him slipping out of his grasp.

Dean’s head snapped around to glare at him, “Are you serious?”

“Hell yes, he’s serious.” Sam startled at the sudden sound of Bobby’s voice in the back seat, twisting his upper body around to see the man that had been a father to them the past few years. “And if you ask me, I think the kid’s got a good point.”

“Sam wants to die and you think he’s got a point!”

“Okay, I don’t _want_ to die.” Sam argued, because of course he didn’t _want_ to die. He wanted to wake up and see his son again. To make up for all the time he missed. Protect him as he should have done years ago, but then there was a part of him that was just tired of fighting his way back from the brink all the time. Who simply wanted to accept his fate and let go. “I just asked if maybe I was supposed to d…”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean cut over him, turning angrily to confront Bobby, “you go on, and before you throw me under the bus, you’re welcome for the hell rescue.”

Sam rubbed at his temples and sighed as he listened to the two sides of his subconscious argue. It was insane and ridiculous, and in no way as weird as it should have been. Closing his eyes, Sam took a breath, pushing the angry voices to the back of his mind, to focus instead on Alfie. Was he alright? He wondered anxiously. They’d agreed months ago that Alfie wouldn’t tap into his powers and he could only pray he’d kept that promise. If they were lucky, the angels would continue to believe he was dead.

The yelling got louder, dragging up the past. Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, Sam pressed the balls of his hands into their sockets, and tried to breathe, his chest growing tighter. He startled as the familiar heavy weight of a hand landed on his shoulder, causing his eyes to fly open. To his surprise he was standing in the middle of a forest, sunshine breaking through the trees. It was peaceful and calm without Dean yelling beside him.

“Yap, yap, yap. Am I right?” Bobby said softly beside him.

“Honestly, Bobby.” Sam stammered, looking around uncertainly. He was growing more tired by the second, and his legs suddenly felt like water beneath him. He wasn’t even sure how he was still standing. “I don’t know what’s right.” He sighed regretfully.

Bobby lifted his arm, patting Sam’s back gently, “Let’s walk.”

 

___(*_*)___

 

The airport was packed, people mulling about, coming and going. Farewells and welcomes home were being exchanged all around them. No a one of them understanding what was going on in the world, how it had changed.

He heard people discussing the meteor shower. Saw blurry photographs covering newspapers. No one had any idea the threat among them, and what danger they brought to the world. Alfie was sure many would consider him overdramatic, but that was because they didn’t know. They hadn’t seen what he’d seen. Hadn’t suffered as he had.

Over the last few months the dreams, or more accurately, memories were becoming clearer, haunting him almost every night; vivid and painfully vibrant.

He woke most days drenched in sweat and shaking, and wandering if they were ever going to stop. Katherine kept trying to get him to talk about it. Open up to someone, but who exactly. What he’d been through, what he was, wasn’t something he could just talk to a councillor about, and as much as he wanted to unload and find comfort in the arms of his mother, he couldn’t put her through that pain.

The only person he thought would understand was Sam, but they hadn’t really had the chance to talk properly about it since the memories had begun to return. – And it wasn’t as if he could just turn up on Sam’s doorstep with beer and pizza. He was barely able to have a conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes, because there was always a hunt to get to. Always a piece of research needing to be done. – There was always Dean to be careful of.

That was the part that hurt the most. Being his father’s dirty little secret. Sam had tried to reassure him. Tried to tell him it wasn’t shame or embarrassment that had stopped him from telling Dean of his existence. Things were just complicated. Dean was dealing with his own issues and was not in the right frame of mind at the moment.

And sure, Alfie understood that, somewhat. He knew all too well what had been going on in the brothers’ lives, especially concerning Castiel.

Alfie, lifted a hand and rubbed absently at his chest, the memory of the night Castiel had tried to kill him sparking to life and causing his heart to race. It hadn’t been the worst thing to happen to him, but it had somehow hurt more. – Most likely because of the stories his dad had told him about Castiel.

“You alright?” Katherine asked, her warm hand pressing against the back of his neck, “You’re burning up.”

Alfie shook his head, jerking away from her touch. “I’m fine.” He lied, “It probably has something to do with….” He nodded to the TV screen above them. The news reshowing footage of the fall.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. You sure this is a good idea?” She asked worryingly.

“I don’t have a choice.” Alfie sighed, exhausted and growing a little frustrated at his mother’s repetitive question, “I have to be there. He’s my father.” Katherine nodded, but Alfie could see the doubt written all over her face. “What?”

“I’m just…” She sighed, twisting on the hard metal seat to fully face her son, “You said he sent out an open prayer, Alfie. Which….” She leant forward, lowering her voice, “means every angel on earth heard it, and is most likely heading his way, and Dean doesn’t even know…” she swallowed thickly, “If they recognised you. If… If she’s there.”

Alfie sighed, closing his eyes so she wouldn’t see the fear her words ignited in him, “I know, but Dean sounded really scared and broken, which means it’s serious. – I…” He opened his eyes and met his mother’s gaze, unsurprised to see his own fear mirrored back at him. “Mom, I _need_ to be there. I have to see if there’s anything I can do.”

“I’m just…”

“I know.” Alfie whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in tight. “We’ll be careful, okay.”

She wasn’t alone in her fear. Ever since he’d decided to head to New York, he’d had a lead weight in his stomach, making him feel constantly nauseous. The thought of seeing any angel again, least of all Naomi, caused a cold sweat to break out all over his body.

_“Boarding call for fight 793 to Buffalo, departing at Gate 15.”_

Katherine got to her feet, grabbing her bag. “That’s us.”

Taking a deep shaky breath, Alfie slowly pushed himself to his feet, Katherine’s hand reaching out to steady him. “I’m okay?” he smiled encouragingly, even as he allowed Katherine to lead him towards the gate.


	2. A Voice in the Wilderness

Sam didn’t think he’d ever felt so at peace. No, that was a lie. He’d felt a similar sense of calm locked away in his own mind with the illusion of Gabriel, but that hadn’t been real. _Neither is this_ , his mind reminded him.

The closest he’d come to it while alive was his time in Texas with Amelia, but deep down he’d known it wouldn’t last. He wasn’t sure he’d wanted it to. After all, he hadn’t fought to keep it. _Because it had been the right thing to do._

Besides, he’d known that eventually something would come along to rip it all apart, though he hadn’t expected it to be something as mundane and…human, as her husband. But he’d known, which was why walking away had been so easy. – Or so he told himself.

As he walked along beside Bobby, he savoured the moment, fully embracing that warmth and serenity that wrapped around him like a comforter. It wasn’t that he hated his life, of course not. He loved his brother. He loved the feeling that came with saving people. – And he loved his son. God how he loved that kid, despite the fact that they had only known one another for a few months, and had barely spent any time together.

“I want to fight.” Sam said quietly, his hands buried deep in his pockets, “but I just feel like…” he exhaled a long breath, unable to voice his fears.

“Like you got nothing to swing at.” Bobby finished for him matter-of-factly. “You’re punching at shadows?” The older man paused for a second, tugging on Sam’s arm to stop him in his tracks, then he looked up into Sam’s eyes, “You gotta stop fightin’ and scratchin’, and looking for loopholes, cause that ain’t happenin’, not this time.”

Sam sighed, hating the truth in the old man’s words. He’ stared up at the bright blue sky, watching a gentle breeze playing with the tree tops. “So, so what, I just…die?” he asked softly, throat rough with emotion.

“Just die? All the good you’ve done?” Bobby scoffed, shaking his head dismissively, “All the people you’ve saved, all the sacrifices you’ve made? Y’saved the world son. How many people can say that? How many people can say they left this god forsaken hunk of dirt that much a better place? What you call dying, I call leavin’ a legacy.”

Sam lowered his eyes once more, meeting Bobby’s tired ones and the man’s soft reassuring smile. “I never even told Dean about….”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Bobby whispered.

“For the best?” Sam frowned, surprised at the older man. “If I… I’ll be leaving him with no one. – Without me, or Alfie, he’ll be alone. _Really_ alone.” His throat tightened around the words and tears pooled in his eyes.

“Do you really want Dean draggin’ you’re boy into this life, like he dragged you? If Dean knew, he’d try to replace you with Alfie, you know he would, and you’d both end up dead.”

Sam shook his head, not wanting to believe it, yet deep down knowing it was true. “If the angels have fallen, Alfie is…”

“Heaven thinks he’s dead. No one knows he’s alive but you, Sam. – He’s safer without you, and especially without Dean. You know that.”

It hurt, but yeah, he did know that. Family was their weakness, and it eventually got them all dead. _“And the bad guys know it too_.” Gabriel’s voice whispered in the back of his memory, and his throat tightened. Without him around, without Dean, Alfie could go have a normal life once again. Accepting death now was the right thing to do, for his son.

Turning, Sam began to walk once more, Bobby at his side. Lifting his eyes from the dirt he found himself in front of a familiar rundown cabin, and sucked in a sharp breath.

“There it is.” Bobby said, waving at the building, “Everything inside you need to help you on your way. Go on son.” The old man smiled encouragingly. “I’ll be waitin’ for yer with a couple of cold ones.”

Sam turned to smile back at Bobby, and gasped in horror as a knife pierced through his chest. Sam stared as the man’s body crumpled to the ground, revealing an angry looking Dean. “Sorry old man.” He said flatly.

“Dean, are you insane?” Sam yelled, even though he knew it was really his own mind, it still managed to leave him feeling sick and angry.

“Come on, Sammy.” Dean scoffed, taking a step closer as Bobby’s body faded away. “Bobby was the part of you that wants to die. I know it stings, but he had to go.”

“No, _you_ have to go.” Sam ordered, “When are you gonna realize? It’s _over_! There’s nothing to fight for!” He yelled, turning away.

Dean grabbed his arm, yanking him back around. “No, see, I know you don’t believe that.” Dean seethed.

“Really? Then what’s your plan Dean?”

There was a long few seconds of silence before Dean sighed, “My plan?” he lunged forward, punching Sam hard in the jaw. Sam toppled back with surprise but didn’t get a chance to recover before Dean was swinging again. “My plan is to fight. My plan is to try!”

Sam stumbled further back under the assault, his ears ringing.

“My plan is to give a damn! You tellin’ me there’s nothing to fight for? What about your son?” Dean bellowed furiously, landing another punch. “You tellin’ me you’re just going to leave him? He could die without us there.”

“No!” Sam growled, swing hard at Dean’s face and knocking him back, “No, he’ll die _with_ us there.” He inhaled deeply, holding Dean at bay with his hands up. “He deserves better, Dean. Better than this life. Better than this family. – Better than _me_. – He’s safer without us around.” He lowered his hand slowly, still conscious of the fury inside himself. The desire to fight still there. “You might not like it.” he sighed sadly, “You might not accept it, but it’s the truth.”

“You know what’s in that house.” Dean muttered desperately, “Now, I can’t help you, if you ain’t willing to fight for yourself.” He said pleadingly.

Sam took a slow deep breath and closed his eyes. “I know. It’s okay.” When he opened his eyes a tearful Dean was shimmering, slowly fading away in front of him. “It’s what I want.” Sam nodded.

 

**__(*-*)__**

 

Alfie sighed, his head lulling back against the head rest. He was feeling increasingly agitated. This was taking too long, he should have used his wings. He’d have been there by now if he hadn’t listened to his mother.

Whatever had caused him to feel like crap had faded away, leaving him feeling tired and antsy. The worry over his dad wasn’t helping matters. He’d tried the man’s cell again, twice, but there was still no answer.

He couldn’t help but imagine how it was going to play out when he finally got to the hospital. How Dean would react to the revelation that he was an uncle. He tried to think if there could be a way to see Sam without Dean ever knowing, but he knew both from experience and from what Gabriel had told him, that when Sam was in trouble Dean never left his side. Which meant there would be no chance of sneaking in behind the man’s back.

And it wasn’t as if he could simply pretend to be just an angel answering Dean’s call. The man had seen him die after all. He’s stood over Castiel as he’d cradled his dead body. – All be it a fake one. So no, he had little option than to reveal the truth, his father’s wishes be damned.

As much as Alfie hated himself for it, part of him was actually eager to shove his existence in his uncle’s face. To force his father to acknowledge him. To finally be embraced by the family he’d been separated from for so long.

“You alright?” Katherine asked for the fifth time since taking off an hour ago.

“I’m fine.” Alfie sighed, rolling his eyes at his mother. His stomach twisted with guilt as he looked at the woman who’d raised him. Who’d given her body over so that he could be born. He had a family already, even if it were just the two of them. He should be grateful for that, shouldn’t he? And he was, really. It was just… Sam was a part of him in a way that Katherine wasn’t. He shared a part of the man’s soul. He was bound to him. A connection that was slowly fading as the minutes passed. Was it really so bad for him to want to be a part of his father’s life. To be important. – To be wanted.

“How much longer?” He asked weakly, his knee bouncing anxiously.

“Another hour, then a cab right to Randolph.” Katherine replied tiredly.

With a weary sigh, Alfie slumped down in his seat and closed his eyes, clinging desperately onto the dwindling bond.

 

**__(*_*)__**

 

Sam pushed open the cabin door slowly, uncertain what exactly he was going to find inside. To his surprise it looked exactly like they’d left it, though a little tidier. A flicker of light caught his attention and he turned to find another familiar figure stood in front of a raging fire.

The man turned, his features blank and distant as they always were, and yet friendly. “Hello Sam.” Death greeted, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Swallowing nervously, Sam took a step closer, heart racing, and fingers flexing anxiously.

“Shall we?” Death asked, gesturing to the leather chairs in front of him.

Sam gave a curt nod and lowered his long limbs into the seat. He couldn’t quite meet Death’s gaze, staring at the dark floorboards beneath his mud caked feet instead.

“I must admit,” Death started quietly, his voice gentle and calm, “When I heard it was you, well, I had to come myself.”

Sam swallowed, nervously licking at his lips, before turning to the man, “I bet you get off on this.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone. While he’d come to accept his fate, he wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t _want_ to leave his brother and son any more than they wanted him to go, but he was so tired of the constant merry-go-round. It was time to get off.

“Perhaps.” Dean hummed, inclining his head a little way, “But not in the way you assume.” He turned cool pale eyes on him, holding his gaze, “I consider it to be quite the honor to be collecting the likes of Sam Winchester.” The young hunter’s eyes widened with surprise. “I try so hard,” Death continued, rolling his cane between his thumb and fingers, “not to pass judgement at times like this. Not my bag, you see, but _you_ …” he turned his gaze back to Sam, pausing for a heartbeat as he said quietly, “Well played, my boy.”

Sam frowned, his chest heaving and he turned his body fully to face the Horseman. “I…” he took a shaky breath, “I need to know one thing.”

Death raised a brow. “Yes?”

“If I go with you,” Sam exhaled, shifting closer to the edge of his seat, “can you promise that this time, it will be final? That if I’m dead, I _stay_ dead? Nobody can reverse it. Nobody can deal it away.” He paused, swallowing thickly and blinking back the sting of tears. “And _nobody_ else can get hurt because of me.”

Death considered him for a long moment, then inclined his head. “I can promise that.”

The air left Sam’s body in a rush of relief, at least some good could come out of it. He wasn’t saving the world. He wasn’t closing the gates of hell. It was saving one person. The only person that mattered.

“Shall we?” Death asked, getting to his feet.

Sam nodded, squaring his shoulders as he rose.

“Dad?”

Snapping around, Sam stared in bewilderment as he saw Alfie stood there. He glanced back at Death, who seemed unaffected by the appearance, but the Horseman exhaled a tired sigh. “Alfie?” Sam said, turning back to the young man. “What are…?”

“Just hold on Dad.” Alfie said pleadingly, looking past him to Death. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

Sam shook his head, stomach clenching tightly. “You just don’t quit do you.” Sam grunted out, features pinched with pain. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Dad, _please_. I can’t lose you too.” Alfie pleaded, tears swelling in his eyes.

Sam scrubbed a trembling hand over his face, gritting his teeth against the desire to give in to his survival instincts. “I’m doing this for you.” He ground out desperately, “You’re better off without me.”

“No!” Alfie snapped furiously, “I’ve been without you my whole life, and look where I ended up.”

“Exactly, you were taken and tortured because of me. To get to me.”

Alfie shook his head. “It wasn’t just… They wanted me to help free Michael and Lucifer. It wasn’t just so they’d have a way to force you’re hand, but because of what I am. – Do you think I’ll be any safer now? Now heaven has fallen? I may as well have a target on my back. I need you Dad. Now more than ever.”

Sam swallowed thickly, hating the way he was trying to manipulate himself. Hating the way his resolve was crumbling.

“Hold on.”

Sam’s head turned, eyes widening in shock as Dean stood there, desperation on his face. “Dean?” he looked from his brother to his son.

“It’s okay, Sam.” Dean’s gaze drifted over to Death, “I would have brought Cronuts, but time is short, so…” He looked back to same, gaze flickering past him for a second.

Sam’s head snapped around to where his son had been standing, only to find the space empty. Frowning he looked back to Dean and sighed wearily.

“By all means.” Death muttered, exhaling an exasperated sigh, and moving over to stare out of the window.

 

**__(*_*)__**

 

The jolt of the plane ripped Alfie from his sleep and he gasped, the bond slipping from his grasp. He blinked in confusion while his heart pounded frantically. Sam was dying, and there was nothing Alfie could do. Not here. He looked around frantically, desperate and filled with fear.

“Alfie?” Katherine asked, frowning at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad, he’s…” He swallowed thickly, turning his gaze to meet her eyes. “He’s dying. I need to get there. Now.”

Katherine frowned, shaking her head. “We’ve still gone another hour.”

Shaking his head, Alfie stood up, shuffling past her. Katherine snagged his wrist, holding him still. “Alfie?”

“I’m sorry, I need to… I have to try.” He pleaded, trying to shake off her grip.

Reluctantly, Katherine released him. “Be careful. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

With a curt nod, Alfie hurried along the plane to the small restroom.

 

**__(*_*)__**

 

“Sam, listen.” Dean pleaded, stepping closer. “I made you a promise, in that church. You and me, come whatever.”

Sam’s breath hitched at the reminder and his fingers curled, the memory of that conversation rushing back to him. Dean had begged for him to stop, to live. – And he’d stopped. He’d looked into his brother’s eyes, thought of his sin, and stepped away from the edge. He’d wanted a future.

“Well, hell, if this ain’t whatever. – But you’ve got to let me in, man. You got to let me help! There ain’t no me, if there ain’t no you.”

Sam gritted his teeth, tears pooling in his eyes. “What do I do?” he choked out, the need to survive too strong, despite everything he knew could happen. All the dangers. All the pain.

“Is that a yes?” Dean asked tentatively, taking another cautious step forward.

Glancing to Death, who stared back to him, features blank and resigned, Sam muttered, “Yes.” But when he looked back to his brother, he found a stranger in his place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry it’s been so long, I’m going to try and do better. Anyway, feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	3. Broken Ties

Ideally Alfie would have landed in Sam’s hospital room, however there was a thick fog of static energy, practically choking the young nephillim’s grace, causing him to lose his focus. Goose-bumps erupted across his arms and down his back. He felt as if he were bouncing off an invisible shield. – Though it was only the after effects of an expulsion sigil, it left Alfie dazed enough to keep him away.

Instead, he appeared in the small alley behind the hospital, stumbling into the nearest wall and gasping for breath, a quiet but persistent buzz ringing in his ears. Leaning back against the walls, Alfie closed his eyes and dragged air into his lungs, forcing his mind to refocus, while fighting back the fear that had settled in his gut. He needed to get up to his father’s room. Sam needed him. – Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to move. Despite knowing there was no way for any angels to still be there, the expulsion sigil having been used, Alfie couldn’t seem to shake the fear of being seen. Being found out.

With his eyes still closed to the world around him, he tried to get a hold of the bond he shared with his father, as weak as it had been, and was comforted to find it was still there. Sam was still alive, despite what Alfie had seen in his dream.

Inhaling a lungful of stale air, Alfie pushed himself off the wall and looked around, taking note of a small side enterence. Squaring his shoulders he hurried towards it, pulling it open with enough force to break the lock.

He found himself in an empty corridor that looked to be a maintenance area, and hurriedly made his way to the nearest stairwell. Alfie took the stairs two at a time until it became too difficult, the lingering fallout of the expulsion spell causing his grace to rebel. A thick heady weight pushed down on him, as if trying to force him away. He determinedly ignored it, pushing onwards.

The bond with his father was growing weaker, more distant, likely due to his proximity to the spell, so he had to use the echo of the Enochian sigils to lead him to his father instead. When the buzzing in his mind grew its loudest, he knew he’d found the right floor.

He stepped out into a chaotic corridor, unsurprised to find it decorated with scattered papers and shattered glass. There was the distant scent of blood outside one of the rooms, and Alfie knew it was Dean’s.

No one questioned him as he marched along the disaster stricken corridor, pausing outside the room to stare down at the burnt out sigil on the floor, the fading power causing him to shiver. He turned away, and pushed open the hospital room door, then froze.

On the bed, instead of his father, lay a fully clothed stranger. For a second Alfie considered he’d entered the wrong room, but the angel warding on the walls made it abundantly clear a hunter had been there.

Panic instantly began to flood in once more. If they weren’t there, did that mean Sam was alright? Had they left to avoid any more angel attacks? Had Dean taken him to another hospital? There was no way to know. He stared at the stranger in the bed with a frown, briefly wondering who he was and why exactly he was in the room. An angel maybe? He debated waking the man, but the sound of approaching footsteps had him stepping into the room and closing the door. Thankfully the angel warding was no longer effective and the spell had diminished enough to allow him to escape.

 

**__(*-*)__**

His new vessel felt…different. Stranger somehow, despite being so broken inside. Gadreel let his grace stretch into every last corner of Sam Winchester’s mind and body, wrapping protectively around his soul as he tried to set it back together.

Sam was a tangled mess, his soul damaged in ways Gadreel had never seen before.

There was an essence in the young man that reached into every fibre of his being. An essence that Gadreel knew all too well, and that left him filled with fear and anger, in equal measure.

Dean hadn’t mentioned Sam already being host to an angel, and not just any angel, an _archangel_. – And not just any, but Lucifer himself. It was no wonder Sam Winchester was so damaged, he knew from experience the brutality of Lucifer, the mind games he enjoyed playing. Gadreel had fallen victim to Lucifer’s manipulations and it had cost him dear.

He and Sam Winchester where kindred in that, both victims of the fallen archangel. Both pawns in his dark game of rebellion and betrayal. – Both broken. He would heal Sam as best he could, and through him, himself. Not because he’d made the deal with Dean, but because Sam deserved to be saved.

 

**__(*-*)__**

 

Once he was far enough away from the hospital, Alfie was able to breathe once again. He found a bench and lowered himself down carefully, his legs feeling like jell-o. He stared down at his slightly trembling had for a moment, flexing his fingers.

Alfie sat and watched the people around him, the sun setting off in the distance, emblazing the sky with pale pink and soft orange. . The gentle spring breeze played across his overheated cheeks and he closed his eyes, allowing him to savour the winds tender caress. His mind slowly clearing.

Thankfully he couldn’t sense any angels nearby, which allowed him to fully relax until the effects of the Enochian magic, as well as his flight, to ebb away.

Just as he was finally letting go of the fear, and reaching for the familial bond, a violent shiver ran down his spine, his eyes snapped open and he quickly looked around, suddenly alert. He shot to his feet, eyes scanning the wide open park around him, reaching out with his angelic powers, but all he felt was a brief ripple of divinity on the wind, then nothing.

With his heart suddenly racing, he sort for the bond once more, panic once again seeping in. It was still weak, his father clearly hadn’t woken up from the coma, but at least it was there. At least Sam was still alive. Dean must have realised his mistake in calling for help and taken Sam somewhere more secure. Perhaps another hospital? Or back to the bunker.

Lowering himself back down on to the park bench, still cautiously aware of his surroundings, Alfie pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down to Katherine’s number. He needed to know where his mom was and how long it would be until she was there. Before he could hit call, however, the bond with his father suddenly intensified and he gasped, abandoning the call to his mother and instead scrolling down to his father’s number instead. – Only for it to go to voice mail once again.

 

**__(*-*)__**

 

Sam startled awake as his cell began to ring. Blinking he looked around, frowning before riffling through his pocket for the phone. His whole body still felt heavy and his mind thick with fog, likely from the semi coma Dean had told him he’d fallen into after the church. Blinking the wooziness away, Sam looked down at the Caller ID and felt his chest tightened nervously. He covertly glanced over at Dean, uncertain whether to risk making the call, but considering everything that had happened, with the fallen angels and his recent failed attempt to close the gates of hell, he was in no doubt that Alfie was likely worried about him.

Clearing his throat, he hit the button. “Hey…Davey.” He said as lightly as he could. He didn’t fail to notice the way Dean shot him a questioning look. Sam only replied by pointing at the sky.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line though, and when Alfie finally spoke, his voice was strained and empty in a way that sent a pain through Sam’s chest. “Da… - Sam?”

Sam cleared his throat, needing to dislodge the lump that his son’s quick rewording caused. “Yeah. – Yeah, we know.” He said, trying to keep his tone casual in front of his oblivious brother.

“So you’re alive?” Alfie stated flatly. “Where are you?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Sam replied, “We’re just outside New York.” He stared out at the highway, racing past in the evening darkness.

There was another long pause, then Alfie muttered, “Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.” Sam said with a nod, fully aware that his son couldn’t see him. He looked over to Dean, who was beginning to frown, so Sam gave him an exaggerated eye-roll, and Dean huffed a laugh, then turned back to the road. “I’ll call you when we’ve worked out what’s going on, okay man?” Sam said, his gut twisting guiltily.

“Right.” Alfie sighed, his tone clearly frustrated and wary. “Whatever.”

The line went dead before Sam got a chance to say anything else, and he gritted his teeth, frustrated at himself. “Okay man, talk to you later, bye.” He said into the silence before lowering the phone.

“Man, that guy certainly knows how to talk.” Dean huffed out a dry laugh, “Can you imagine having him and Garth in a room together?” he snorted, shooting Sam a good-humoured grin.

“Yeah.” Sam agreed, trying to sound equally amused, but he was sure it fell flat. Dropping his gaze to his hand, he watching himself turn the cell over and over, before he lit up the screen again and noted the missed calls. Dialling his voicemail, he returned the cell to his ear and listened.

 ** _“Dad?”_** Alfie’s voice sounded panicked, and pained, _**“Dad, what’s going on? Why are the angels falling?”**_

**_“Dad, please, call me. I need to know you’re alright?”_ **

**_“Dammit, Dad, call me.”_ **

**_“I doubt Dean’s checking your voicemail, but just in case. This is Alfie. Samandriel. I heard you’re prayer and I’m on my way. I’ll explain everything when I get there, just be careful. If Da… – Sam wakes up before I get there, please call me. My number is on his phone. – If you can’t find it, call my mom on 0965553283.”_ **

Sam swallowed thickly, his heart beginning to race. Hospital? He hadn’t gone to hospital. He’d asked Dean when he’d woken up, but his brother had insisted he hadn’t thought it was serious enough to seek medical attention. Which Sam admitted didn’t make sense. Dean was always quick to drag him off to a doctor. It was part of that overly protective brother thing. It usually drove Sam insane. Which led to one question; why would he lie?

Turning to his brother, he stared at him, watching Dean as he drove them back to Kansas, Zeppelin on the radio. He seemed relaxed, but there was something off. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you….” He blinked, then shook his head, “…check my voicemails while I was out?” Sam asked, trying to sound casual.

Dean looked at him with a frown, “No, why?”

Shaking his head, Sam shrugged, “Just asking. Got a few from hunters, wanting to know what’s happening is all.”

Dean let out a sigh, shoulders slumping, “Right. I guess we’re going to have to call around, give everyone the heads up.” He answered matter-of-factly.

Lowering the cell, Sam stared at him for a long few seconds, his mind suddenly fog, like he intended to ask something else. Something important. Shaking his head, he brushed it off, turning his attention back to the phone in his hand.

“Sammy?” Dean called, frowning over at him. “You okay?”

Blinking, Sam shook his head, coming back to himself. He frowned down at his cell, the screen blank once more.

“You need me to pull over?” Dean asked in a suddenly worried tone, “Sam?”

“What?”

“You need me to pull over?” Dean repeated, eyes flickering between the road and Sam’s face.

“Oh, uh… - No, I’m fine. Just zone out there for a second, sorry.” He looked down at his phone once again, before slipping it back into his pocket. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“Sure. – Why?” Sam frowned over at his brother.

There was a long pause, Dean’s eyes searching, before he shook his head and relaxed, “Maybe you should grab another couple of hours.”

“Yeah, perhaps you’re right.” Sam agreed, resting his head against the vibrating window and closing his eyes, ignoring the strange sense of forgetfulness.

 

**__(*-*)__**

He shouldn’t have done it. He knew that, but he’d panicked. Sam Winchester had been so close to asking his brother about the hospital, and despite only knowing the eldest hunter for a few hours, Gadreel knew Dean would be unable to continue to lie. He’d seen it outside the hospital, the look on Dean’s face, the desire to tell Sam everything. Gadreel couldn’t have that. Not yet. Not before he’d finished his mission. Not before Sam was whole once more.

So has dishonourable as it was, he could not allow Sam to discover his presence. It was for both their good.

 

**__(*-*)__**

Alfie tossed his jacket on the bed before following it down, stretching out horizontally across the bedcovers, he stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think. He wished his was back in Lawrence. Back in his own room, where he could hide away until the pain of rejection eased. However, they weren’t able to get a flight until the next morning, and Alfie was too tired and scared to attempt to fly him and his mom back to Kansas. – Not that Katherine would allow him to.

So here he was, stretched out on a crappy motel bed while his mom went for food. Closing his eyes against the sight of the ceiling, his memory recalled all the stories his dad, Gabriel, had told him about Sam and Dean. How they’d haul up in crappy motel rooms just like this, while hunting down monsters. As a kid, he’d thought it was awesome. He’d imagined that one day, when he was fully grown, that he’d join them. – Become part of the family business.

Then Gabriel had died and he’d had no contact with Sam. By the time he was old enough to maybe seek his remaining father out, he’d given up ideas of hunting, preferring instead a normal life. He didn’t need Sam, Dean or hunting when he had his mom, college, a wonderful girlfriend, good friends, and a job.

Then it had all been ripped away. He’d been taken away from everything he knew and loved, locked away behind bright white walls. Tormented and threatened. Tortured and reprogramed, until he had no idea who he was.

Tears burned behind his closed eyelids and he swallowed the lump in his throat, while scrubbing at them with the balls of both hands. Memories forcing their way to the forefront of his mind.

_“Knowing the Winchesters inclination for protecting family, I'm sure Sam Winchester will do whatever is necessary to save his son."_

 

Alfie scoffed bitterly into the silent room. Clearly the archangel had overestimated the brothers. They may be willing to do anything for one another, but family? Wasn’t he family? And yet, Sam wasn’t even willing to acknowledge his existence. The sharp sting of Sam’s earlier words pierced through him once again and Alfie inhaled sharply. How much could Sam care for him, if he would rather pretend to be speaking to another person, than answer to his brother.

Bitterly, Alfie considered how unsurprised he _should_ be. Knowing his father’s past as he did. The secrets he’d kept before. The lies he’d told. Alfie knew he was no different. Just another dirty little secret Sam wanted to keep locked away.

Tears welled behind Alfie’s eyes, his heart aching and a thick lump filled his throat. Shuffling around on the bed, he buried his face in the pillow, allowing his hurt and betrayal to fully consume him. Better that he get it out of his system before his mom got back. He had no doubt Katherine would raise hell if she saw the true extent of his pain.

It didn’t take that long for the tears to fade, as sleep drew in. The exhaustion of the day taking hold and dragging him down. The agony didn’t fade with sleep however. The upset of the day’s events leading his mind into the darkest corners of his memory.

_Raphael stared at him, slowly rising from the chair and strolling over to hover in front of the young captive. "So..." sneering, nose wrinkling with renewed disgust. "...tell me, where is your father?"_ _At Alfie’s confused, pained look, the archangel clarified, eyes rolling with frustration. "Sam Winchester."_

_"I don't know."_

_"That's a lie." Raphael sighed once more, already bored of the whole conversation. "There is a bond between a nephillim." that look of disgust strengthening on the archangel’s features, "....and its...parents. You know where he is and you are going to tell me."_

_Alfie narrowed his eyes, straightening to his full height, towering over her just a little, "I. Don't. Know."_

_Raphael raised a hand to strike and Alfie flinched back away from it. Pain rippled through his face. His left eye feeling as if it was going to explode from the pressure of the strike._

_"I don't know." Alfie announced shakily, tears filling his eyes, while heat bloomed across his cheek, head ringing. "I've never even met him!" Raphael stared at him, doubtful. "The Winchesters don't even know I exist!" Alfie spat out, bitterly._

_Raphael released a bored sigh. "That is neither here nor there, you can find him and then we'll be sure to introduce you. Knowing the Winchesters' inclination for protecting family, I'm sure Sam Winchester will do whatever is necessary to save his son."_

_Alfie’s stomach dropped, and he inhaled sharply, fear taking hold. He may not have met his father, but he did care for his safety. He loved him, their bond assured that. "What are you planning?" he asked shakily._

_Raphael glared at him, "It's not my plan, it is my father's and I intend to see it through." The archangel declared haughtily, “Just as soon as I put that little upstart Castiel in his place, we will release Michael and Lucifer from their cage. You have delivered me just the bargaining chip I need to finally force the Winchester to do what God intended.”_

_“No. I won’t do it.” Alfie snapped rebelliously._

_Raphael grunted an irritated breath, turning from him once more to converse with another angel; the vessel also female but smaller in stature. Asian with dark eyes that were misleadingly soft. “Sister, if you would.” The archangel gestured to Alfie, “I will return soon, be sure he’s…” Raphael glanced back to him, “…cooperative.”_

_“Yes, Raphael.” The small Asian woman said with a sharp nod. As soon as the archangel vanished, the woman clicked her fingers, and Alfie found himself secured to a chair. The angel moved closer, staring down at him, eyes searching._

_Alfie struggled against his bindings, desperate to free himself. When the woman’s hand rested against his forehead, it felt of nothing. Not heat. Not cold. Just an empty weight securing his head in place. Alfie held his breath, eyes shifting to her hand, heart clenching tight at the sight of the sharp needle, reminding him of the tattoo gun when he and Rebecca went to the small shop. He swallowed thickly, wishing there had been something that would have protected him from angels._

_“I’m sorry.” Alfie frowned up, the Asian angel had been replaced by an older man, hair greying and chaotic, eyes a turbulent mix of emotions. As if he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. “It’s the only way.” The man said, trying to sound sympathetic and reassuring, “But you’ll be fine. I promise, kid. I mean, it I could have had Castiel kill you instead of that girl,” he rambled, smiling. “But I owed your father a lot, and I figured, he’d be alright with me taking your grace. At least you’ll be alive.”_

_Alfie’s heartbeat grew increasingly frantic, sweat beginning to pool in the hollow of his throat and down his back. His eyes flickered back to the needle, only to find it replace with a scalpel. Panic took hold and he began to struggle wildly against his bindings._

_“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt that much. It’ll be over quick.” He reassured, moving the blade to rest against Alfie’s Adam’s apple. “And hey, you won’t have to worry about the angels anymore. You’ll be off their radar._

_Heat and pain exploded across Alfie’s throat, he tried to get away. Tried to fight against the bindings, but there was a buzz around him, not only holding his body prisoner but also his power. He screamed, tears seeping out from beneath his lashes as his body grew weaker by the second._

“Alfie? Alfie! Wake up!”

His eyes drifted weakly open, allowing him to stare up into the worried, fearful gaze of his mother.

“It’s alright Honey, it was just a bad dream.”

Alfie shook his head, body weak and empty, “No. No, it wasn’t.”

 

 

**__(*-*)__**

 

He’d imagined, as many had, that when the true vessel of Lucifer came into being, it would share many of the fallen archangel’s traits. That it would carry that same disgust and hatred for humanity, allowing it to truly be one with it’s destine owner.

Memories forced their way to the forefront of Sam’s mind, and Gadreel shared in the pain they caused. The felt the sense memory of Lucifer taking hold and the way Sam had fought to regain control. Sam was so much stronger than he seemed, surviving so much. Gadreel felt his own wave of guilt. Thaddeus’ harsh taunts replayed in his mind. He was no better than Lucifer. He was flawed and broken. He wasn’t strong enough.

_“No better than an abomination.” Thaddeus spat before drawing the blade across his wing. His halo extinguished and discarded._

Gadreel shook his head. He wasn’t Lucifer. While he would often take control of Sam, would steal his free will, it was for their own good. Neither of them were mended. Neither of them ready to be separated. It wasn’t as if he was erasing Sam’s memories, he just couldn’t allow Sam to seek out the nephiilm. The child would know. It would not understand. It would – force him out.

When they were both recovered, then he would leave, find another vessel. He would then find a way to redeem himself for pass misdeeds. Seek redemption, as Sam had.

 

**__(*-*)__**

 

Sam stared at the paper, the pen clutched tightly between his fingers. He’d had a sense that he’d forgotten something, a nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him to remember, but he couldn’t quite reach it, like an itch between his shoulder blades but twice as annoying.

Ever since they’d returned to the bunker he’d been reaching for his phone, meaning to call someone but with no idea who, or why, and there was a ball of guilt in his stomach like a promise not kept. He told himself again that it was probably a side effect from not finishing the spell to close the gates of hell. – Because what other explanation could there be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down. Thank you to all of you sticking with this, I really appreciate the feedback. It’s always great to hear from you.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder that this is a work in progress, meaning I don’t know when the next update will be. Soon hopefully.


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